Poetry

Friday 9th January, 2015.

Friday 2nd January, 2015.

new love

joy hovered over her lips as she introduced her new love

belying the stallions trampling her heart as they galloped inexorably

transforming into terrifying mares at night

why was it that in his arms warmth encapsulated her

that the entire universe seemed a stone’s throw away

that fear seemed a neurotic construct belonging to others

she fell in love easily, almost carelessly,

flinging her heart around for anyone agile enough to catch

optimism ever present

euphoria ready to erupt

but recently those making the leap had faulty mitts

butter fingers

or such fast reflexes they’d pitched it back into the air before it even had a chance to settle

But he held her firm and fast

without faltering

flawlessly

could he in fact possess the courage to love her

unequivocally

continuously

long enough for her to release the fears, the hurts

the multitude of pain she hadn’t realised haunted her

was he genuinely prepared to journey forth through her tumultuous seas

crashing through relentless waves

of profound exuberance

Wednesday 24th December, 2014.

the run

in in out out

in in in

out out out

breathing steadied I observe my surroundings

trees, bamboo

hills smouldering atmospherically in the clouds

sunlight bright

can one really draw energy from all this?

feeling diminishes as rhythm takes over

talking helps

distracts

makes the inexorable time pass faster

tok tok tok tok

rubber soles striking sun faded pitch

are my footsteps too loud?

should I lighten my strike?

are my feet dragging, pulling away energy?

I focus on my breath and straighten my compacting spine

a pain creeps into my left thigh

it lingers

do I wish to stop?

no way!

keep going

keep on trucking

when the going gets tough…

songs start jumping into my brain, until a suitable one sets in

ready to perform, ready to perform

I go through it several times, distracting myself further

using the words meditatively

thoughts of soca lead to thoughts of carnival

every step helps create the ultimate carnival body

the stamina for the road

cute legs for short pants parties

keep on keeping on

and then the shadow extends

a breeze blows

the last two bends are right there

almost tangible

an energy fills my quads

I want to speed up

I want to push myself

I feel up to and ready for the challenge

I take off, heart pounding, lungs expanding

endorphins surge

pain dissipates

I pound the road, arms pumping.

and then it’s over.

body goes into a slight shock,

focus, focus, don’t faint

stretch, drink, stagger

legs that just ran for over an hour can no longer walk

muscles go into sulky rebellion.

drink

sun smiles…’you won this time…’

and instead creates a mark on my calf

a memory of a run in the hot sun

a 10k

Saturday 30th August, 2014.

booty call

a warmth creeps into her soul

catching her by surprise

a smile begins to dance round her lips

as the realisation hits

he wants her

she gazes narcissistically in the mirror,

scrutinising her face, her clothes,

what did he see tonight that was different?

why is he suddenly now possessed with an insatiable urge

to come

checking her phone feverishly

knowing every minute means a possible regression

she can but wait

impatiently

anxiously

hungrily

and then he arrives

months of suppressed passion are released

many faults and slights

overlooked and glossed over

as underlying it all

she knows

despite external criticism

well meant lecturing

imploring

despite the obvious disparity in the situation

there lies

unequivocally

a truth

on this night
he chose 

her

Thursday 14th August, 2014

The Look

My eyes, black, bold, bore holes in your soul.

My lips, a raspberry shade of promise.

Hair, falls in curls, or frizzes into a halo.

Skin soft, like a baby's.

Cheeks, retaining juvenile chub, despite the spider's webs forming round my eyes as I smile.

Blemishes come and go, with my volatile nature.

Breasts were never pert,

Belly scarred by energetic, intolerant babies,

As surly in utero as their teenage selves.

Waist like an hour glass, hips broad.

Legs proportionately long, or torso short?

Butt fleshy...

Funny what is so attractive to the male is an anathema to the female...

Am I beautiful?

I scan the mirror searching...

...searching for the evidence of people's words.

Are they seeing my physical self or my soul?

Why do they seek to flatter?

Is the confusion caused by my tumultuous heart, by my hyperactive brain, by my over zealous urge to understand and please...

Or by my look, my looking,

My searching deeper, penetrating your very essence?

But I cannot do otherwise.

I dress, bejewel, augment.

I smile at the caricature of my natural self, giggling a little at the transformation.

Not that anyone has ever been fooled, and nor have I.

So strength and a certain look,

Depth and a promise to run the course

Unrelenting pursuit of passions

And discomfiting eyes.

Is it a monster I've created?

I sit back, sipping coffee, or wine

Or rum, tequila or vodka...

I feel as people come in and out of my energy sphere,

Vibrating with me, perfectly in tune for a moment, a while, a time...

Until the harmony abruptly ends, the discordant chords begin to clash

The fragile ethereal skin of the bubble stretches, then bursts...

or disintegrates with the brief brush of a lit cigarette...

Wednesday 9th July, 2014.

I shared this poem with my Masters class today.  The professor got me to read it twice, I think she found me reticent the first time and I really was unsure how it would go down as it was so deep.  However, as we were sharing I felt the need to bare a little piece of my soul with a poem which has been of personal significance to me for 25 years.

After the second reading which certainly had more feeling although I didn't reach my maximum performance, there was a heavy silence in the room, a weightiness where people seemed to have receded deep inside of themselves.  I was a little concerned and wondered how on earth the prof was going to dig us all out of this deep hole.  Masterfully she did, gradually and respectfully, and later on my classmates assured me they were appreciative of my sharing this poem.  

Anyway here it is by the wonderfully profound Samuel Beckett.  Cascando....

Cascando

1

why not merely the despaired of
occasion of
wordshed

is it not better abort than be barren

the hours after you are gone are so leaden
they will always start dragging too soon
the grapples clawing blindly the bed of want
bringing up the bones the old loves
sockets filled once with eyes like yours
all always is it better too soon than never
the black want splashing their faces
saying again nine days never floated the loved
nor nine months
nor nine lives

2

saying again
if you do not teach me I shall not learn
saying again there is a last
even of last times
last times of begging
last times of loving
of knowing not knowing pretending
a last even of last times of saying
if you do not love me I shall not be loved
if I do not love you I shall not love

the churn of stale words in the heart again
love love love thud of the old plunger
pestling the unalterable
whey of words

terrified again
of not loving
of loving and not you
of being loved and not by you
of knowing not knowing pretending
pretending

I and all the others that will love you
if they love you

3

unless they love you

(S. Beckett, 1936)

from Collected Poems in English and French, S. Beckett, Grove Press, Inc. N.Y. 1977



I'm now building courage to write my own version of an all enduring love poem...watch this space.